Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles)

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  He got up and went to pour himself a glass of water. Condensation formed on the surface, sluiced between his fingers. His body, though, wouldn’t let up, if his dreams were anything to go by. He’d woken up so many times with her image lodged in his eyes, her body as he imagined it to be beneath her clothes, his sheets sticky, his body thrumming.

  Kalaes kept saying he needed to get laid. His body agreed wholeheartedly. The sounds that often drifted from Hera and Sacmis’ room across the hall didn’t help either.

  To be so close to Alendra every day and not dare touch... He shook his head, shoved sweaty hair off his brow. Surely it was a sign of peace when he’d get so frustrated over something like this. A sign of wellbeing.

  Or of a coward.

  He stared at the water sloshing in his glass. Put it down on the counter. He had a roof over his head, food and water, and people who cared for him. Yeah, he’d accepted that, had come to believe it. Which brought him back to square one and that irrational fear of losing it all again.

  Sometimes he wished Rex hadn’t reached a balance with telmion, that the parasite could render him reckless like it did when he was in danger, forcing him to take action.

  Ah well. He touched the black marks of Rex on his neck, slightly raised like beads embedded under his skin, and shivered. Careful what you wish for...

  Gulping down the water, he set the glass in the tiny sink and washed it. Then he headed to the bathroom. They had a shower, with warm water, of all incredible luxuries, and washing himself every day was one of those things he’d never thought he’d experience. Brushing his teeth, feeling okay.

  He picked up his medicine from the cabinet on his way, took a swig of the bitter liquid, wiped his mouth. Just enough to keep the balance between Rex and telmion, to ensure that one of them didn’t go haywire, that he wouldn’t reach for his gun or vomit up his lunch.

  He paused outside the bathroom to pull off his boots, and he shed his shirt and pants, then his socks and underwear on his way to the shower stall.

  And then he stopped. Among the other luxuries, there was a full body mirror next to the shower. Usually he didn’t even glance at it, just brushed past, showered, and when he stepped out, the damn thing was so fogged up he couldn’t see his reflection. Thank the gods for small mercies.

  But it was clear now, and with nobody waiting outside the door for their turn in the bathroom and his thoughts whirling, he stopped dead in his tracks.

  His hand lingered for a long moment on the horrible scars on his thigh, followed the dents and dips of pink furrows and white masses of new skin, then crept up his chest to all the other scars there, the gunshot wounds, the marks of old diseases. Shifting slightly, he turned his arm, lips pinching at the ugly sight of more scars from bullets and the line of black dots spreading down from his neck to his shoulder. Gods, he was a mess. He didn’t even dare look at his back — more scars, and all the snakeskin...

  Hells. Even if Alendra had got over her aversion to tel-marks, how would anyone look at this map of disfiguring scars and want to... do whatever it was people did between the sheets.

  Sex. That’s what they do. Say it.

  Biting his lower lip, he turned away, stepped into the shower, adjusted the nozzle. Right. Maybe it was good he’d had a look. Reminded himself exactly what he was afraid of.

  Don’t trouble the waters. Everything was fine as it was.

  He soaped, rinsed off and toweled himself dry roughly, intent on getting out of there as fast as he could. He headed to the bedroom he shared with Kalaes, pulled out clean clothes and dressed, running a hand through his wet hair.

  Not for you. The words followed him as he hunted down a pair of clean socks and pulled them on, went out to find his discarded boots and shoved his feet into them, bending down to lace them.

  You know the gods don’t like it when you keep asking for more. They’ve given you so much already. Don’t be ungrateful.

  They were the voices of the monks who’d raised him at the factory, the voices of caution and fear.

  Alendra is not for you.

  ***

  A noise roused him. He blinked, lifting his head from his folded arms, struggling with heavy lids and broken images from a dream. He’d been walking along a cliff as huge waves crashed below. Pelia had been holding his hand, but then she’d shoved him and commanded him to fly, but fear didn’t let him do anything but fall.

  He looked around the common room, raking his hands through his hair. It felt as if it had dried at odd angles. Gods, what time was it? He remembered sitting down to read the newsfeed, and being unable to concentrate. He’d disassembled and reassembled his gun. It never failed to calm him.

  The sound came again. Someone was trying to open the door. It sounded as if they were fiddling with the lock.

  Wary, his vision fragmenting into colors, he stood, picking up his Rasmus, and approached the door as if it were a rabid dog.

  He took aim just as the door clicked and swung open on creaking hinges. A bright figure stepped through, a riot of red and orange flashing on the chest and head.

  “Who’s there?” Elei grated, sighting down his gun.

  A startled gasp, and the sound of something hitting the floor. “Elei?”

  Oh crap. A second later — a second too damn late — the scent of sea breeze hit his nose and he lowered his gun. His face went cold, then hot.

  Alendra. Hell of a way to scare off the woman who was... well, okay, already sort of scared of him. Possibly.

  “Um,” he said, clicking the gun safety on. “Sorry.”

  The colors still obscured her face, although now he could catch a glimpse of blond hair framing it. Damn you, Rex, step down.

  “It’s... okay. Really.” Was that a hint of laughter in her voice, or was it barely contained anger? “I didn’t know you were back or I would’ve knocked. My hands were full, you see.”

  He couldn’t see, dammit, not yet. “Full?” he ventured.

  If only his heart would stop racing, but her scent didn’t help. The vague contour of her body sent his pulse thumping low in his belly and he gritted his teeth not to curse out loud.

  Alendra sidestepped him — because he was still barring her way, right — and picked something up from the floor, moved to the table and deposited it there. “I passed by the market.”

  “Food?” Gods, he sounded like an idiot. Irritably, he rubbed at his possessed eye, sighing when the pain in his head subsided and the colors began to fade.

  “Yeah!” She grinned, gestured at the cloth bag Elei could now see sitting on the table. “Found ithi fruit, and egg cakes with honey, and...” She trailed off, gaze going intent. “Are you all right?”

  “Hm?” Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the slender curve of her jaw, the arch of her throat, the sweet way her pale hair curled at her temples.

  “You look tired. Is the work too hard?”

  He shook his head, dispelling the images. “No. It’s fine, really. I... Is Kalaes coming?”

  “He said he’d be a little late.” She turned to the bag and unpacked her buys. “I think he’s meeting someone.” She winked at Elei, her lips tilted in a mischievous smile as she set water boiling for tea. “A certain someone with a head full of braids.”

  Zoe. Elei nodded, pleased for them.

  Alendra spread out the goodies and poured herself a cup of herbal tea, filling him in about the orphanage and the kids they’d already brought in.

  Elei ate a K-bloom, barely tasting it, her talk washing over him. How would it feel to splay his hands over her body, to cup her curves and inhale the scent right off her smooth skin?

  Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

  He didn’t give a damn for other girls. Instead, he pined for Alendra, who, according to Hera, was “cute in a mousey sort of way” and who was part of his family now, and he really couldn’t lose that...

  It really wasn’t fair.

  “Elei, have you listened to a word I’ve
said?”

  Crap. And oh, double crap, he’d been staring at her breasts, hadn’t he? He averted his gaze, shifting uncomfortably on the seat. He toyed with a peeled fruit, popped it into his mouth. “Where are Hera and Sacmis?” His control was fraying and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

  “You don’t remember? They’re at a meeting in Dakru City.” Alendra put down the cup of herbal tea she’d been cradling in her hands and gave him a stern look. “Okay. What’s up with you? Are you sick?”

  “What? No.” His cheekbones burned.

  “Then is something on your mind?” She tilted her head to the side. “Want to talk about it?”

  He shook his head.

  “Help me chop the roots for the stew?” She shoved a box of yellow roots toward him.

  Thankful for the distraction — and where in the hells was Kalaes when one needed his endless chatter? Oh right, with Zoe — Elei took the box and fished out a knife from a drawer.

  He was chopping, focusing on shoving the cut pieces into a pile by the sink, when she came to stand right next to him to cut the meat she’d brought. Her fingers were small and delicate. He remembered them clutching a gun, holding down Kalaes; it seemed impossible now.

  Oh gods, he wanted to kiss her again, and there went his resolve not to, right out the window. He wanted to cup her slender shoulders, touch her fine collarbones, slide down her blouse and—

  “Shit.” He blinked down at his hand, blinked again at the blood dribbling on the counter. What in the hells?

  She lifted wide eyes to his face, then grabbed a towel from a rack and gestured with it. “Give me your hand.”

  He did, dazed. What had happened...?

  Ah yes. He’d been thinking of undressing her and he’d damn well near chopped his finger off. Typical.

  And idiotic.

  She wrapped the towel around his finger and he pulled back his hand, twisting the cloth around his palm to keep it in place.

  “Come here.” She tugged his arm and he followed, still reeling. She led him to their beaten-up sofa and pushed him down. He landed with a “oof” and stared when she sat down next to him.

  She smiled. “I was hoping to be alone with you for once.”

  “You were?” The fading afternoon light from the window made her hair look like a cold blaze, leaving her face in shadow.

  She nodded. “I’ve been meaning to...” She bit her lip. “To talk to you.”

  “What about?”

  “This...between us.”

  This. Kissing. Hugging. His heart pummeled his ribs as he waited for her to say more.

  “Listen.” She wasn’t looking at him, and cold spilled into his chest. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. We could just forget it ever happened, if that’s what you want.”

  Forget...? Whoa, wait. “Why?”

  Her smile slipped. “I have a feeling you don’t want it.”

  His throat was dry. He tried to swallow but couldn’t. “But why—?”

  “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  “I’m not avoiding you.”

  “You do everything you can not to be left alone with me.” Her shoulders were hunched. “Don’t you?”

  Shit, she was right, and yet... He bowed his head, stared at the blood-stained towel on his hand. He could tell her she was right, that he hadn’t wanted it, that it was a mistake. Easier.

  “So it’s settled,” she whispered. “I’ll get the stew going.”

  But when she made as if to stand, he followed her in a sort of dim panic and grabbed her arm. “Please, stay.”

  She sank back down and he leaned toward her, meaning to explain, but his mouth caught on hers, pressed against her soft lips, and he forgot what he’d meant to say or why.

  Soft, and sweet, and his hands fitted over her shoulder blades, held on. She was pressing back, her lips moving over his, parting, and he was sinking, or maybe flying, he couldn’t tell.

  Somehow he found himself laying her down on the sofa and bending over her. His heart hammered low in his belly. He lifted a hand to her face, propping himself on the other so he wouldn’t crush her, and kissed her again, his eyes closing.

  Pleasure rippled down his spine, taking his breath, and he gasped, pulled back for air. Alendra’s eyes glittered in the fading light, bright against the flush of her cheeks. Elei buried his face in the juncture between her neck and shoulder, pressing his mouth to stop from whimpering out loud.

  Oh gods, he’d never felt anything so good, and he couldn’t stop moving, touching... He moved his hand to Alendra’s throat, down to her breastbone, over the curve of one breast, and she sighed, her back arching. He raised his head, gazing on her face, caught by the way her eyes had slitted, her lips open to exhale.

  “Ale...” He gulped, still moving against her, desperate to get closer.

  “Don’t talk.” She wrapped her arms around him, sought his mouth with hers. “Kiss me more.”

  With a soft groan, he obeyed, spread full length on top of her lithe body, feeling every rise and hollow, wrapping himself in her scent and the slightly salty taste of her skin, slipping a hand under her blouse, sliding down the strap of her bra, suffocating with the need to see her at last as he’d dreamed of her.

  Her hands stroked his back, tugged and pulled, and cool air hit his spine. Her hands followed up, caressing his flanks, his ribs, higher up where he couldn’t feel them anymore, because...

  “Damn.” He scrambled away and tugged down the hem of his t-shirt, all blood draining from his face, leaving him light-headed. “No.”

  She sat up, her eyes hurt. “Elei?”

  He pushed off the sofa, almost falling over as he found his feet. The blood-stained towel lay at the foot of the sofa. Gods, how did he let himself get so carried away? She’d touched the snakeskin, a few moments longer and she’d have seen it, the snakeskin, the scars, all of it.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t,” was all he managed to say, before he turned and left the apartment.

  ***

  Alendra wasn’t there when he returned later. He didn’t know whether to be glad or devastated. He rubbed his arms, frozen to the bone, because of course he’d left without taking his jacket.

  “Hey,” Kalaes said coming out of the bedroom, scaring him half to death. He held a glass and the whiff of strong alcohol hit Elei like a punch. “I got worried. Where were you?”

  Elei shook his head. “Don’t worry, I was careful.” He’d learned it the hard way a couple of times already, and there was only so much the police could do.

  “That right?”

  “I had my gun, I checked every corner, and I went and sat at Min’s diner.”

  Kalaes nodded, yet his lips twisted in a self-depreciating smile. “I wouldn’t be much of a brother if I didn’t worry, now, would I?”

  It brought a spark of warmth to Elei’s cold chest. “Is there more of that?”

  “This?” Kalaes fetched the bottle, held it out, winked. “Here you go, fe. Drown your sorrows. Follow my good example.”

  Elei took the bottle, grabbed a glass from the rack and filled it up to the brim.

  “Whoa. You’re serious today.” Kalaes perched on the counter and raised his glass. He saluted Elei and drank, squinting with watering eyes. “Here’s to peace.”

  “To peace,” Elei said quietly and swallowed half of it in one go, then spoiled the effect by choking and coughing most of it up.

  Kalaes was laughing. “Okay, fe, spill. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh come on. Too late for that. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “Why don’t we focus on your sorrows.” Elei wiped his mouth and took his glass to the table, where he proceeded to sip at it more cautiously. He gestured with it. “You did say that, didn’t you?”

  “Awh crap. Little brothers turning the tables on you. Not funny.” Kalaes took another swig. “You sure you wanna add my woes to yours?”

  Elei nodded. His chest was w
arm now, and a fuzz was settling on his brain.

  “Fine then.” Kalaes stared into the depths of his glass and frowned. “I, um...” He downed the rest of his drink, coughed a little. “Damn. Well, there was this girl who was supposed to help me clean up the place. I think she likes me. A lot. Stuck on me at work all day like a starfish. And then Zoe walked in.”

  Elei tried to imagine the scene. “Shit.”

  “So I made my move on Zoe, as I’d planned all along, and bang crash, ow in the jewels.”

  Elei stared at him. “Zoe hit you?”

  “Not physically.” Kalaes winced. “She used some choice words, though, and they were sharp.”

  “Just for talking to the girl?”

  Kalaes winced again, jumped off the counter and picked up the bottle. “Girl grabbed my ass and pasted herself all over me right before Zoe walked in. I know it looked bad, but I swear, fe, I was ambushed. I don’t even like that girl.”

  “Sucks. Will you call Zoe?”

  “In a while, I think.” Kalaes tapped the bottle neck and grimaced. “With the help of this baby. My heart’s broken but I’ll survive.”

  There was something in his eyes, though, a hairline crack.

  “This isn’t about Zoe.” The words escaped Elei’s lips and hung in the air, innocent and yet heavy. He ducked his head, cradled his glass closer. “Shit. Sorry, forget it.” He was wrong; it wasn’t innocent at all. It was a behemoth of a question, encompassing everything, and he held his breath, waiting to see how Kalaes would interpret it.

  Kalaes threw him a quizzical look as he sat down at the table. His possessed eye flashed a pale blue. He said nothing for a while, twirling his glass between his fingers.

  Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. “You’re right. I’m not drinking to find strength to talk to Zoe, although some good sex might have gotten my mind off things. Then again, imagine if I fell asleep with her and woke up screaming.” He snorted, not a happy sound. He looked at Elei through heavy-lidded eyes. “It’s Hera.”

  “What about her?”

  “I overheard her talking to Mantis on the telespeak before she left to Dakru City for the meeting. She’s...” Kalaes rubbed his eyes furiously. “She says she wants to lead the exploration teams underground.”